No Crying Over Spilled Soup

This morning I am thinking about how my yesterday began.  First, my car wouldn’t start.  My brother had just put in a new battery, so I figured it couldn’t be that.  As it turns out, the starter needed to be replaced, so I ended up missing two meetings I had scheduled for the morning.  As I was finally headed to the office, I thought to myself, “I know.  I’ll stop at Red Lobster and get some of that delicious, spicy chicken tortilla soup that I love for lunch!  That will cheer me up.”  And, so I did.
 
I was stepping into the elevator at work when I noticed the warm, wet sensation on my hands.  When I looked down, I saw little drops of soup on the floor.  I looked into the bag in which I was carrying the soup, and I realized that the lid had come off and the soup was tipped over!  What was an unnoticeable drip was turning into a significant drizzle.  I cupped my hands under the hole that had now formed in the bottom of the bag, and as soon as the elevator door opened I made a mad dash for the nearest trash can.  I didn’t make it.  By the time I reached the trash can, there was a trail of broth, limp tortillas, soggy vegetables, and chunks of chicken strewn along the carpeted floor.  There was also a small audience of colleagues desperately attempting to hide their amusement.  Two of them tried to help, while another went to find a custodian.  Utterly embarrassed, I wondered, “How could this get any worse?”  And that’s when a school board member rounded the corner, headed my way.  Mercifully, the custodian arrived and shooed me away saying, “Go on.  I’ll take care of this.”

I walked to my office with my head down, noticing the chicken soup stains that were streaking down each pant leg.  I plopped down my purse on my desk, along with the folder full of soup-stained papers I had in my hand, and I noticed the card sitting there from my boss.  When I reached into my purse to fish out my reading glasses, there were two chunks of chicken sitting in the change pouch.  I just wanted to cry.   But, I opened the card.  As I read his kind, encouraging words I could feel my cheer reservoir being refilled.  And, tucked inside the card, there was a gift card for Red Lobster.
 
As I tossed my chicken-scented slacks into the washing machine last evening, I reflected on other times when I’ve made a mess with things I really wanted…specific goals, resolutions, and relationships.  I thought about the trail of hopes, dreams, and memories that lie strewn between my past and where I stand now.  I also thought about the embarrassment of knowing that others watched while things dear to my heart fell apart.  But, ultimately, I thought about how my Boss has always given me His Words of encouragement, no matter how bad things were, at just the right time.  More than this, even when I make a mess, He gives me exactly what I need to start again so that I can still have those things I desire.  Rather than crying over spilled soup…or dashed hopes and broken dreams…I rejoice with great thankfulness for God’s gifts of grace, redemption, and restoration.